


Out of Reach

by missema



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dating, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Markarth, Nobility, Prison, Shower Sex, Skyrim Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-20
Updated: 2012-09-20
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:44:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jarl Igmund of the Reach has a crush on the Dragonborn and arranges some alone time with his newest Thane, though nothing abut their relationship goes as he's planned.</p><p>From this kmeme prompt:<br/>Jarls need some loving, too. Maybe they've become too attached to the Dragonborn and want some 'alone' time with them, away from their stewards and court wizards. Preferably one of the single Jarls (without children) and perhaps either an Imperial or Breton Dragonborn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

At first glance, Jarl Igmund hadn't thought much of the Imperial woman that came stomping into his court, declaring herself a sellsword. He had no intention of indulging the likes of her kind, and sent her off on a bounty, never expecting to see her again. It was a shame, for Hestia was a handsome woman, short, though not as petite as a Breton, curvaceous under her mage robes with the dark skin and hair common amongst those from Cyrodiil. She wasn't pretty, he wouldn't go so far as to say that, but was attractive with her sharp cheekbones and high nose. The woman had the look of a warrior, of someone who'd already tested their steel and come out the victor.  
  
When she'd lived and come back for more, he had been begrudgingly impressed with her, and sent her after his father's shield, a task his guards shrank from, for it was deep within a Hagraven nest. She came back and deposited it in his lap after an embarrassingly short amount of time, grinning as she met his eye.  
  
It had been about then that he'd found himself thinking about her, fantasizing really; she inspired feelings in him he'd thought long dormant, if not completely gone. As he lay in bed at night, he wondered about her, where she went, and if she was alone all the time during her travels. The thought of her with someone else made a spark of anger flare within him, though he had no right to her. He was infatuated with Hestia, as mad as it sounded. And it was madder still that he confessed his feelings to his steward, his uncle Raerek, but Igmund realized that he had precious few people that he counted amongst those closest to him.  
  
As always, Raerek was cautious, but offered his counsel without reservation. "She'd be an interesting and powerful choice for a bride, my Jarl."  
  
"Marriage? So she isn't married already?" He asked. It had been one of the things on his mind as he thought about her the night before, wondering about her life.  
  
"She sometimes wears an Amulet of Mara, though I haven't seen her wearing it recently.  To that end, she hasn't been in The Rift within recent memory, at least no sighting of her has reached my ears.  She may be visiting soon, I don't think she stays too long away from her properties."  Raerek said sagely, speaking of the manor she'd purchased on her last visit to the city.  
  
"Perhaps it's time to name her a Thane of our humble Hold and get to know her better." Igmund mused aloud, wondering if she had indeed married during her absence.  
  
The time for marriage had long passed him without finding a suitable mate, and he'd never bothered with the unsuitable ones. He was a practical man, not given to romance, and the early years of his reign had been tumultuous. Igmund had little enough time, and didn't wish to burden himself with problems that arose from making a poor match - though he lamented that he had no heirs. Though with their constant clashes with the Forsworn, The Reach was a troublesome enough Hold that some might see that as a blessing, that he didn't have to pass on that war to his child.  
  
"I'll send a letter around to Vlindrel Hall. With any luck, she'll visit the city soon and you can...make arrangements to see her. I can also make inquiries about her amongst the townspeople, see what she likes." Raerek sounded a little wearier than normal as he said it, but Igmund was lost in his own thoughts of Hestia. It would be good to see whom she knew in his city - keeping track of her was something he should have been doing all along, though he scarcely had the resources to spare.  His guards were concerned with the safety of the realm and keeping the hated Forsworn at bay. "Now, if we could get back to court business." He added, a touch of impatience in his tone.  
  
Igmund sighed, looking up to see Thongvor Silver-Blood already in the Keep, glowering at him from a distance. It was an ill omen for the rest of his day.  
  
######  
  
Markarth wasn't her favorite city in Skyrim, but Hestia had to admit that she rather liked her home there, Vlindrel Hall. She'd been lucky enough to purchase it before leaving the city during her last trip, and Jarl Igmund had spoken about naming her a Thane on the condition that she help his people. Well, since she'd last been there, she'd retrieved the new Sybil of Dibella from a group of Forsworn and was pretty sure that was a big help to the people of Markarth. There'd been other, smaller things as well, but she couldn't remember all of them,  
  
With some reluctance, she returned to the stone city, retiring to her opulent home immediately upon arriving. It wasn't yet night, but the sun had reached the red haze that signaled twilight and she didn't have pressing business. Stooping to pick up a note that had been left near her door, Hestia didn't bother to read it, but dropped it on the table and stripped off her weapons and armor, falling gratefully into a chair and picking up a jug of wine.  
  
Her travels were demanding more of her, in turn depleting her energy further with each outing, and she was tired of being forever alone when she came home from braving the wilds of this foreign country. Though she called a few people friends in Skyrim, and some accompanied her when she ventured out of the cities, more often she was by herself. She'd picked up the habit of talking aloud to herself and answering, though tonight she had neither the energy nor the inclination. Wandering had always been interesting in the more densely populated Cyrodiil, where she met people on the roads and the cities were teeming with life. In Skyrim, she could walk vast, lonely stretches of land and come across nothing but wildlife, speaking to no one for days on end. Encountering anyone was a rare event, and she relished the times she found the lonely shacks of hunters and traders, or met a bard on the road. Hestia yawned, and after a half-hearted attempt at eating, she went to bed, forgetting about the note on the table.  
  
Late the next morning, she blundered back to the table to eat again, still weary though she'd slept well. A lack of decent sleep for too many nights in the past was catching up to her, and she wanted nothing more to stay in her house all day, mixing her potions and sleeping on and off. Ravenously biting into a ripe red apple, she closed her eyes and sighed. These were the comforts of home, she thought to herself, glad to finally be able to spent time at one of her houses. It was too large and quiet here for her to stay permanently, but it felt just right for her at that moment, giving her enough room to rest and empty her overburden pack without disturbing anyone. As she went to pour herself a tankard of wine, Hestia picked up the note she'd found the night before, and flicked it open, breaking the wax seal that bore the emblem of Jarl Igmund.  
  
 _Igmund, son of Hrolfdir, esteemed Jarl of Markarth and all The Reach_  
 _Humbly requests the presence of the Dragonborn, Lady Hestia_  
 _At her earliest convenience_  
 _In his court, at the Mournful Throne in Understone Keep_  
  
 _Raerek, Steward to Igmund_  
  
"Well, that's not cryptic at all." Hestia said aloud, voice ringing around the vast, empty house. Sighing, she stood up and stretched, off to wash and dress before she went to see what the note was all about.


	2. Chapter 2

The Jarl was expansive as he made her Thane, and it struck Hestia as a bit odd, the small bit of ceremony had been merely a formality in the other holds, but she was grateful for the honor. Perhaps it was more for Igmund than her, for he seemed to glow under all the attention.  She'd not noticed how handsome and commanding he was, but he used it to full advantage this night.  It seemed as if the whole of the court was assembled, and even some of the other Thanes, faces she recognized but did not know. However, she reasoned that Igmund was just being traditional, pulling out the old formalities at the oddest times, as the Nords were wont to do. She was glad to be Thane finally, it always helped to have a sympathetic ear to talk to about the problems of the city and the situation in Skyrim. Perhaps with a housecarl, Vlindrel Hall would feel more hospitable during her visits.   
  
Hestia stopped to speak with Faleen, who had the glow of love about her. "How have you been?" She asked the warrior, who gave her a wide smile that made her dark features even more attractive. "Things have been magnificent, thanks to you. Calcelmo and I...well, I've never been happier." Faleen confessed in a happy voice. "Thank you so much."  
  
"I'm so glad I could be of help, but it was really the priestess of Mara that heard Calcelmo's prayers. I just did what I could." Hestia said modestly. While she was proud of the work she did, helping two people find love wasn't really the type of things she could take credit for. They'd simply needed a push towards each other. She and Faleen made polite conversation for a few more minutes, with the housecarl congratulating her on her new title.   
  
Igmund's steward, Raerek, came up to her next, giving her a small nod and expressing appreciation once more for the city. They were all quite nice, but Hestia felt odd, as if she were the only person in attendance that was missing something. The feeling increased when she felt Jarl Igmund's eyes on her, no matter where she stood in the room. There was something strange about the way he stared at her, and when he was occupied by the Thalmor Ambassador, she fled the Keep, heading towards the market to do business and then to check on the new Sybil of Dibella to see if the child was settling in.  
  
"Where did she go?" Igmund asked after he'd turned around and hadn't seen Hestia in the room.  
  
"I think she's departed." Raerek said. "I did what I could to keep her here, but she seemed in a hurry to leave."  
  
Igmund sat down on his throne, stewing at his own mistake. That bloody Thalmor had been lurking near the throne and he'd gone to attend to him after he'd gone through the formalities of naming Hestia a Thane. It appeared that she'd slipped right by him while he'd been occupied.  
  
"Get her back!" The Jarl was angry, not at his steward but at his own ineptitude. He'd had her here, was gave her an honor and then neglected to speak to her, letting himself get distracted. This was as badly as the plan could have gone, save for her rejecting the status of Thane.  
  
"How shall we do that, my Jarl? She had no more business with the court." Raerek was outwardly patient and calm, used to dealing with Igmund's temper. Privately, he found the whole situation a bit comical, and he didn't blame Hestia for taking her leave. The whole court was acting stilted and strangely around her, rumors swirling about Igmund's growing infatuation with the woman.  He'd been heard inquiring about her in a none too discreet manner, speaking to anyone that claimed an acquaintance with her.  
  
"Invite her to dine with me tonight, and make sure there are no interruptions."  
  
"I shall make the necessary preparations."  
  
Court was interminably long for the Jarl, but once he'd received an affirmative response to his invitation to dinner, it was more bearable.  That evening once his duties were complete, Igmund had a lavish dinner laid out in his private quarters. Without knowing what she favored, he ordered a variety of dishes, calling upon his chef to make several new items on short notice, which infuriated the Breton to no end. He could hear the banging of pots in the kitchen, and the angry muttering that came along with it. Any other time he would reprimand the cook, but nervousness plagued him and he had little thought to spare as he waited.  
  
Hestia entered, wearing a fine dress of dark green velvet that set off her dark skin and hair instead of her usual arms and armor, though she did carry an ornate dagger at her waist. Upon seeing her Igmund drew in a sharp breath, a smile spreading across his face. It had been worth it to invite her back, just for the sight of her dressed for dinner and not battle. She was lovely, her raven hair curling around her shoulders, loose and flowing, an Amulet of Mara gleaming around her neck. The sight of the Amulet of Mara heartened him as he ushered her into the room, greeting her with a flourish.  
  
"Am I early?" She asked, and he could hear the confusion in her voice. Her dark eyes were darting around, taking in their surroundings.  
  
"No." Igmund shook his head, not understanding the purpose of her question.  
  
"Aren't any other members of the court attending?"  
  
"It's just the two of us. I meant to ask you earlier to dine with me, but you were gone before I had the chance." Igmund explained. "You aren't often in the city, so I wanted to speak with you while I could."  
  
"Oh. Well, thank you, my Jarl." Hestia said primly, reassured by the explanation. It had been strange, to say the least, to walk into his chambers and see only him there, with the table laden with enough delicacies to feed the Imperial Legion. Surely this was more ceremony, and she examined him surreptitiously, thinking that all this formality was rather traditional, even for a Nord.  
  
"It's my pleasure, and please, just Igmund." He said, motioning for her to sit down at one of the stone chairs.  
  
"Thank you, Igmund." She revised, sitting down at the table across from his own seat.  
  
For the first few moments, his mind was blank and he could think of little to say, other than to ask Hestia if she'd have a chance to inspect the weapon he'd given her earlier in the day as a badge status as Thane. They were quiet as he poured her a goblet of wine, and he drank his own much too quickly, unintentionally using the liquor to quell his anxieties.   
  
When the silence had begun to take on a presence of its own as it sat between them, he started to babble, just to fill the space as they started in on the food. He talked about the history of Markarth, and a little about his father, though he didn't truly want to talk about him. He watched her attention, polite at first, but then growing interested as his stories drew closer to the present and the wine had filled the two of them, making them laugh at the slightest provocation. Between them, the attraction seemed mutual, she luminous with the soft light from the fire behind her and he jovial and talkative, drawing her out as the night went on.  
  
"You've led an interesting life." Hestia commented, after hearing Igmund glow about Faleen and her combat prowess. Apparently she'd saved his life on more than one occasion and he had nothing but respect for the woman.  
  
"I imagine I could say the same of you. I've done all the talking, Hestia, and you all the listening. But I know so little of you, and want to know more. What did you do before you came to Skyrim?"  
  
She smiled, looking down at her glass. Igmund reached out to pour her more wine, and his fingers stroked her hand as he skimmed across the table. It was a light touch, a small thing, but a jolt of surprise shot through her at the contact, and she welcomed it, encouraging him with a smile when she looked up at him again.  
  
"Well, I was told that I was born in the Imperial City, but I don't know if that's the truth or not. I grew up in Cyrodiil, and joined the Fighter's Guild there when I was old enough to leave. It gave me a place to stay and hone my skills with a blade. Decided to come to Skyrim when I tired of the politics, but I guess I wasn't really well informed on the situation here." She laughed, and Igmund joined in, his hand sitting close to hers on the table, but not touching, as if they were both afraid to close the gap.  
  
"Did you have a reason for wanting me to come for dinner or is this a congratulations on my new title?" Hestia inquired curiously, giving voice to the question that had been in her mind all night. The dinner had been easy and casual, full of conversation and laughter, but felt an undercurrent stirring between them and wanted to understand it before she acted.  If she was mistaken, she could cause dreadful offense. But this encounter felt more like a date than not, and if she was being courted, she'd like to know it.  
  
At her inquiry, Igmund gave a sheepish smile. "I wanted to have dinner with you."  
  
Hestia arched an eyebrow at him as she searched his expression. He looked hopeful and a little scared, mirroring her own feelings, confirming her suspicion that this was a date. "I am wearing an Amulet of Mara. You could have stated your intent."  
  
"I'm the Jarl, I can't just go around asking every eligible beautiful woman if she'd consider me. I need to get to know you first."  
  
"So, this is a first date. Will there be more?"  
  
"If you like." Igmund said, hoping she would let him see her again. He tensed, holding in his breath unintentionally.  
  
"I would." She answered promptly, and for a moment, the both of them sat smiling at each other, Igmund's breathing returning to normal. "But another time. It's getting late and the wine is going to my head." Hestia stood to leave, but she wavered slightly. Igmund was there instantenously, his arm around her waist, walking her to the door.  
  
"I'll get one of the guards to see you home." He said, before opening the door. Hestia leaned in and brushed his bearded jaw with tender fingers, watching Igmund's eyes darken with delight as she did. Their kiss was simple, sweet and chaste, his lips brushing over hers before releasing her, and opening the door.  
  
After she'd departed, the room still smelled of her perfume and he could feel her soft lips against his. When he got into bed, his only thoughts were of seeing her the next night, or the night after, it didn't matter to him, so long as he got to bask in her smile again.  The dinner had gone better than he'd ever hoped, especially after their bumpy start.  It had been a long time since he'd met someone so intriguing and beautiful, but he didn't feel awkward or out of practice - in fact, just the opposite, their shared night had made him more confident, reinvigorated.  The Jarl smiled to himself as he drifted to sleep, waking in the morning to a light, happy feeling hadn't harbored for ages.


	3. Chapter 3

He looked out of the door again, impatiently, just as he had not two minutes before. This time he spoke to the guard stationed outside. "Where is Hestia? She was supposed to meet me for dinner tonight and is over an hour late." Igmund didn't wait for an answer, but let the door close and resumed pacing around the room, the dinner they were supposed to have shared lay cold and forgotten on the table.  
  
It had been almost a week since they'd last seen each other, though she'd visited him soon after they'd dined together for the first time. She'd told him she had business to attend to in the city, which unfortunately occupied her attention, but would see him as soon as she could. After waiting for more time than he'd liked, he'd gotten a note from her about having dinner together again, that evening.  Igmund had gone ahead and arranged it as he had before, using his knowledge of their previous meal to cull some of the dishes from the menu, but Hestia had neglected to show up at the appointed hour. It was well past time now, and Igmund grew furious and distressed.  The guard outside jumped as he wrenched the door open with a bang, and strode out of it. He had to find out what was keeping her.   
  
Going to the Captain on Duty for Understone Keep, he ordered him to around to her house and check with her housecarl, to find Hestia and make sure she was alright. Igmund wouldn't have been worried about her in a fight, he'd gathered that she was a far more capable warrior than himself, but she wouldn't keep him waiting if that were the case. Their date would have been made for another night if she thought she would be away from the city or needing to tend to injuries. It didn't make sense, she had plans to meet him tonight, and had been seen out around the city earlier, with nothing out of the ordinary. That she hadn't sent word of of a delay, that frightened him. The lack of contact, breaking a date, it didn't seem like her, and made him fret, thinking that she lay sick or ill someplace. The guards were rallied at once, and dispersed to find his missing Thane.  
  
"Excuse, my Jarl." A guard came up to him five minutes later.  
  
"Yes, what is it?"  
  
"Well sire, it seems that the Dragonborn was arrested earlier today."  
  
"What?" Igmund shook his head in disbelief. "I don't believe it."  
  
"Taken to Cidhna Mine. It seems she um, killed a man in the Temple of Talos. And perhaps Nepos the Nose, we're not sure about that one." The guard looked down, uncomfortably shifting from one foot to the other as he braced for the Jarl's anger. He wasn't disappointed.  
  
"What?! You took the Dragonborn to Cidhna Mine?!" Igmund thundered, fury enhancing the incredulity in his voice. "This is ridiculous! She can't be arrested in my city. She's a Thane! You guards report to me, me and no one else, no matter how many pockets are lined with silver! This is because of those fool Silver-Bloods. Get Thornar or Thongvor Silver-Blood in here as quickly as possible. I need to know what happened." Igmund didn't have to watch the guard to know that the man scurried away from him, eager to put as much space between him and the angry jarl as he could.  
  
Igmund hadn't thought that he could be even more upset than before, but he was absolutely seething, his rage threatening to bubble over with each passing moment. Hestia would likely despise him, with his lawless city and traitor guards having her arrested. He would go down there and get her himself, if it came to that. If she'd come to harm any way, if anything had happened to her down in that mine with those Forsworn savages, he was behead every single member of the Silver-Blood family himself and let them be taken to Cyrodiil to be displayed as traitors to the Empire. Damn them and their money, making them think they were above the law.  
  
Without his bidding, Igmund felt Faleen's presence at his side, realizing she'd come when she'd heard his raised voice. She let a hand rest on his shoulder as she spoke to him. "Do not worry, my Jarl. I will find her for you and find those responsible." She promised through gritted teeth, quite angry at the turn of events. Faleen had long voiced her distrust of the Silver-Blood family, and had dismissed many guards for taking bribes from them, only to find them reinstated at the special request of Thornar Silver-Blood.   
  
Filled with impotent rage, Igmund went to sit on his throne and stew, waiting for one of the Silver-Blood brothers to show their face. He couldn't get down in the mine without their help, and he needed to understand what she'd been doing, and what the guards meant when they said she killed someone. Once he knew more, then he could help her, and he planned to do whatever he could to get her out before too much more time passed. Until then, he prayed to Talos that she come to no harm.


	4. Chapter 4

_What the hell was going on?_ Hestia thought to herself as she woke up on the hard ground of an unfamiliar dusty cell. This happened to her far too often for her liking, waking up imprisoned for a crime she hadn't committed. She didn't remember getting there, or taking off her own armor. Was it even the same day?  
  
She coughed violently, rattling her ribs, body trying to reject the foul dust every breath brought into her lungs. An orc woman was standing over her, talking in a commanding, mocking tone. Hestia rubbed at her aching head, unsure that she could stand without being nauseated. So this was the famed Cidhna Mine, she thought, looking around at the cell that wasn't much more than a door that led out into a mineshaft. There were no reason to even lock the door, she realized in horror, the shock of waking up in prison still washing over her.   
  
In a remote corner of her mind, she wondered if Igmund knew she was in prison, and dismissed the thought, deciding the he could be of no help to her at the moment, though she worried for him if someone had tried so desperately to remove her from the picture. It was ironic, she was the unjustly imprisoned, but she worried for the Jarl and the tenuous hold he had over his people. It was no small wonder that he was so suspicious of her motives when she first presented herself at the Mournful Throne.   
  
Though she doubted a larger plot, part of her mind worked, wondering if she'd been removed from the city as an attempt to take it over. No doubt the hapless Silver-Bloods would think themselves in control of the coup, though that was as misguided as their attempts to strong arm the city into submission. There were too many players on the board, and she feared that it would be the jarl who would be removed next. Nothing about that appealed to her, not as she thought about Igmund's haunted eyes, or the prematurely white hair that spoke to the past trials he'd endured.    
  
Hesitant though they both had been with their budding relationship, Hestia truly felt something for Igmund. If, no, when she got out of prison, she would try to help him, protect him and make him understand what an unholy mess he was dealing with. This was what Raerek had been trying to explain to Igmund after Margaret had been killed in the marketplace, to no avail.   
  
Stormcloaks and Thalmor were quite enough to contend with, but a city full of corrupt guards, Silver-Blood stooges and Forsworn were quite another, and he'd need all the help he could get, and she wanted to get back at the forces that conspired against her. Eltrys, a good man who had just wanted to find out the truth about his father, was dead in the Temple of Talos, murdered by guards determined to pin it on her. Plus, she was more than a little miffed that she'd missed her next date with the jarl.  
  
Surrounding her was a dreary, awful place, smelling of death and silver, of misery and dusty despair. When she ventured out of her cell, the prisoners had grown too much like their surroundings. Speaking to them didn't garner her much information, but they were all Forsworn or sympathizers that had decided to convert during their incarceration. Hestia got the distinct feeling that as an outsider, she was missing much of the story between the Reachmen and the Nords, and lamented the ongoing conflict, and how no side seemed to be satisfied with the lives they'd taken already.  
  
Her only way out seemed to be through Madanach, whom she was expecting from the information she extracted from Nepos the Nose. Bluffing her way past his orc guard, she walked into his cell, readying her magicka for a fight.  
  
"So you're the one who's been trying so hard to kill me." Hestia said by way of greeting, as she looked into the dirty, lined face of the imprisoned King in Rags.  
  
Faleen was the first person she saw as she walked out of Cidhna Mine, flanked by Thornar Silver-Blood, the pair striking her as quite the strange duo. They were waiting for her, and she realized that they must have come from the main part of the prison, searching with the intent to release her. Hestia nearly felt bad for breaking out, but then she remembered that she hadn't actually done anything wrong to go to jail in the first place.   
  
The madness of the city was starting to become clearer to her, and she felt only pity for the people on both sides that were caught up in it. There were so many players on the board, no one could see the whole thing, never knew when they were being used as a pawn. Someone had to finally emerge the victor before order could be restored, and it wouldn't have been Madanach, locked inside the prison. She'd taken his piece out of play, but she didn't doubt that there were countess other Forsworn eager to take his place at the forefront of their cause.  
  
As Thornar apologized, admitting his part in the whole charade, Faleen was looking her over, no doubt under instructions from the jarl. She could feel the hard gaze of the Redguard warrior assessing her, and was seized with the urge to go speak with Igmund. Not only did they have plenty to discuss, but Hestia hadn't felt as comfortable in any place in Markarth as she'd been at the Keep, the night she'd had dinner with him. She longed for that feeling to return, to wash away the grit of the mine, to forget the imposing stone walls and crumbling steps and simply be.  
  
It wasn't even that late at night, for her adventure had started early in the day, but it felt as if weeks had passed since she'd first set out to apprise Eltrys of her findings. With her belongings returned to her, Hestia turned to Faleen and said only one thing, "Take me to him."  
  
Igmund found himself pacing more in recent days than he had in very long time, but nothing about his relationship with Hestia was going smoothly. He had to create the chance to even speak with her, a feat that wouldn't have been possible had he not been jarl, and even thought hadn't gone according to plan. He resigned himself to the idea that the fates were testing them, and hoped that this last trial was the worst they'd have to endure for a while.   
  
She was dressed in rags and more than a little dirty as Faleen escorted her through the door, but she looked mostly unharmed, the pack laden with her belongings on her back.   
  
"Hestia, I'm so sorry." Igmund began before the door was even closed behind his housecarl. "Please, consider yourself officially pardoned by me and free of any wrongdoing."  
  
If he was worried about her reaction, he needn't have been, she threw her arms around him and hugged him to her, kissing him fiercely. After a moment of shock, Igmund kissed her back, hearing the door closing quickly behind Faleen as she departed, leaving them alone and with so much to say, it couldn't effectively be expressed in mere words.


	5. Chapter 5

As her lips pressed against his, Igmund didn't try to make sense of the situation, deciding to just enjoy it.  She tasted of sweat and grit, the slightly bitter tang of blood on her slightly chapped lips.  Whatever had happened in the mine, he could feel the remnants of her adrenaline, the urging that made her kiss even more fierce, the need mixed with fury.  Heady desire ran through him and Igmund shamelessly groped Hestia through her ragged clothes, his hands eager to feel the curves he'd so admired from a distance.  
  
He wanted to make love to her, to be swept into the heedless passion of her kiss, to take her savagely against the cool stone walls until she keened his name.  Just the thought of her seeing her face flushed with pleasure made him moan, and she biting his lip in response, adding further fire to his blood.  The dreams of her that were usually relegated to the darkest hours of night bloomed before him, begging for Igmund to give in.  Though he sorely wanted to, it wasn't the way their first time should be, and he held himself back, stopping his hands before they slid under her garment to feel the heat of her skin.  
  
"Igmund."  She growled his name, making it sound like an order.  Lust darkened her eyes, making them seem impossibly large and dark in her face, and realization dawned that her mind had probably been thinking along the same lines as his.  
  
"Not like this."  He said, pulling back from her embrace.  "Not when you've been fighting and killing and I can smell the blood on you.  You've got scratches that need tending, and I should hear your story."  
  
Wise though his words sounded, they were difficult to get out, and his body rejected their wisdom, throbbing with unfulfilled need.  Hestia stood there, glaring at him, her sharp Imperial features arranged to show her perplexed annoyance.  He met her gaze, hardly able to keep himself from resuming their kiss, but she broke away after a moment, and he knew that they would be able to talk at last.  It wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable as giving in to her, but it was his duty to understand exactly what had led to the betrayal of his guard and the arrest of a Thane.  
  
"Thornar Silver-Blood is a great fool, peace in your city hangs by a thread and your guard is corrupt."  
  
"I know all these things.  Please, just start from the beginning."  
  
"Let's just skip to the end."  Hestia sighed.  "I will help you with this city, and the myriad of problems you face on one condition."  
  
Igmund raised an eyebrow at her, crossing his arms over his chest.  "What is that?"  
  
"I need a bath."  
  
A smile broke out on his face and Igmund let his arms fall to his sides, silently agreeing with her.  Her intent was clear and she tested his resolve in the most delightful way by tempting him further.  But that was to come later, he had one condition of his own.   "And it's time we had our dinner together."  He said, leading her to table that had been laid hours before.  
  
They sat down to eat, Hestia more hungry than she realized. Even hours past the time it was intended for, their dinner was still delicious, the rich tastes soothing her still frayed nerves. If she remembered later, she would go and give her compliments to the snarky Breton that worked in the kitchens. She didn't know why she was pushing with Igmund, other than she wanted him, the lust awakened by her time in the prison mine.    
  
Or perhaps it was the way he'd sent Faleen for her, trying to ensure her safety in some small way. But it felt like more than that, a connection she couldn't explain any more than she could capture it with her hands, however palpable it was. It filled the room, indescribable and heavy between them, making her ache with want as she watched him across the table. Whatever it was, it only grew as she told her story to Igmund, who sat across from her, watching and listening, mostly silent save for a few questions here and there.  
  
"So what's your suggestion for the first place to start to fix things?" Igmund said once she'd finished, eying her over the top of his tankard. She watched him, heat rising within her as he absently licked wine from his lips, the pointed end of his tongue darting out. Gods save her, she thought she might burst if they talked for much longer.  
  
Hestia shrugged, shifting uncomfortably in the rough prison clothes. They chaffed against her skin, rubbing her in the wrong ways, annoying her body. She longed for the cool kiss of silk against her skin, but she would settle for just being out of the rags. "I don't have a real understanding of Markarth yet, and until I do, I can't do much for you besides lend another sword arm. But I will try, and hopefully, we can start to at least make the people of the city feel safer."  
  
"You're more than that, Hestia." He said, and the tone of it startled her, forcing her to look into his face.   
  
Igmund was taken with her, that much was clear from his expression, his dark eyes shone with affection and lust, though he tried to suppress the latter. If she hadn't known it before, everything in his manner was making it apparent now as he studied her, looking for her acceptance of his meaning. Perhaps she'd known since they'd first had dinner that night, the two of them closed up in his private quarters, becoming more familiar with one another without interruption.   
  
That was exactly what she had in mind for tonight, though she hadn't counted on the day starting with her arrest. Intending to make the most of it, she stood and stretched life back into her limbs, his eyes following the lines of her body. "Thank you, for sending Faleen tonight. It was thoughtful."  
  
"I wish I could have prevented it altogether." Left over rage prickled his skin and he bared his teeth as a low growl erupted from him. "Taking you, YOU, of all people to the mines. It was only the need for information that stayed my hand, otherwise you would have seen Thornar Silver-Blood's head outside the Keep."  
  
Hestia shook her head, not wanting to talk about it anymore. She was tired, of the topic and just in general, but could no longer ignore the stink of her skin, the itch that took hold whenever she moved or the pain of the scrapes she'd earned breaking out. Walking away from the table, she looked at the rocky basin of shallow water and asked, "Is this where you bathe?"   
  
"Oh, um, yes. Would you like to use it now?" Igmund asked, flustered.   
  
"Very much so. These clothes aren't even as comfortable as armor." Hestia replied.  
  
To that, he said nothing, but she heard him behind her, shuffling around nervously. Gritting her teeth, she realized that she couldn't get into any bath without taking care of her wounds first. 


	6. Chapter 6

Carefully, she healed herself with magic, Igmund watching her intently as she banished the worst of her wounds. She wondered just how much actual magic his court wizard, Calcelmo, did these days. Probably very little outside of his research into the Dwemer ruins, and even less of it in front of the jarl.   
  
Hestia smiled to herself, remembering that she hadn't mentioned her skill in Restoration magic to him, but that was a conversation for later. The healing spread over her like a balm, knitting together skin that she hadn't even known was torn. There would still be aches and tender skin, but at least she was no longer bleeding, and could bathe without risking further pain.  
  
For a long moment, he didn't speak, just watching her and the golden, swirling after effects of the spell before he moved again. Shucking his boots, he walked over to the steps that led to the water that ran through his room, the warm stream where he bathed. Sticking a toe in, he felt the water, a little cooler since the sun had set and it was well into night, but still decently warmed. It would suffice for her to bathe in, and he hoped it would be comforting after her trying day.  
  
"You're free to use my things." He said, pointing at a small indentation in the rock just above the water line which held a ball of soap and a brush with a long wooden handle, as well as a few other bathing accouterments.  
  
Hestia nodded and began disrobing, the jarl averting his gaze, busying himself with some other task. He was still barefoot walking around, and she smiled at the sight, amused. It would have been easier for him to stick a hand in, but she knew he would be getting ready to go to bed soon, and that his boots would remain off. It was funny how well she felt she knew him after spending just a short amount of time together.   
  
She wanted to call out to him, make Igmund join her, but she didn't, couldn't. Instead she left the rough prison clothing she'd been wearing in a heap on the floor, hoping that he threw them in the fire. Descending into the water, Hestia let it envelope her, covering as much as she could, washing the dust and dirt of her extremely odd day away.  
  
She was washing her hair under the cascade of water coming from the pipe above when she felt Igmund behind her. In her enjoyment of the waters, she hadn't spared him much thought, but he'd been watching her. At first, it had just been a curious glance, then he'd found himself watching a little longer, and then staring. Joining her was preferable to leering like a lecherous pig, and he had silently slipped into the warm water as she bathed.  
  
"Igmund, I didn't think you'd be joining me." Hestia remarked placidly, over a shoulder, as if she had known he was there the whole time.  
  
"I nearly didn't, but then I realized how foolish that would be."  
  
He moved towards Hestia, who had been standing near the waterfall. She could feel the spray of water constant, dotting her breasts and collarbone, and realized that in the waist-high water, not much of her was covered. The thought didn't disturb so much as titillate her, wondering how much he'd seen already. The heat of his bare chest pressed against her back and she sank into his embrace, for the first time, feeling her exhaustion. Pushing away the wet hair that hung heavy on her shoulders, Igmund let his lips trail up the curve of her neck until he reached her ear.  
  
"What do you want, Hestia?" He demanded in a whisper.  
  
"To forget today, and only remember tonight."  
  
The answer was unexpectedly honest, and in that honesty lay her need, not just desire, but the need for him to be the one to help her forget. It was his duty, after all, as the Jarl. The water splashed merrily around them, but together they were as still as stone, she waiting, almost timid. Then, in what seemed like a rush of motion to her senses, Igmund turned her to face him, possessively caging her in his arms, his answer in the feral kiss that claimed her mouth.  
  
The water splashed his hands as they spanned her back, touching as much of her skin as he could, unable to resist any longer.  Igmund's lips were bruising against the softness of her mouth, and for a moment he tried to ease up, but Hestia nipped at his lip with gentle teeth when he did, beckoning him back.  How long had it been since he'd kissed someone, or been kissed?  Far too long for his liking, and longer still since he'd cared for the person receiving his kisses.    
  
His errant thoughts made themselves known in the ferocity of his kiss, the work of his hands, doing their best to skim over every centimeter of Hestia's exposed skin.  Igmund had oft indulged himself, imagining her nude, but reality left his fantasies in the dust.  Somehow, he hadn't considered that she'd be scarred, though he had quite a few of his own.  They lent her body a type of grace, and did nothing but intensify his increasingly apparent attraction to her.    
  
With a form like that of an exquisite warrior goddess, Hestia looked her power, strength granted to her by time on the road and work with the Legion, but the muscles only enhanced her already curvy body.  Broad shoulders lead to muscled arms, and an impressively endowed chest.  Her legs were covered in the water now, but as she'd descended into the pool he'd watched, her legs strong and stout, converging into a rounded backside.  In the water, Igmund admired all of it with his hands, tangling them in her heavy, wet hair and letting them drift downward and back up again as they kissed.    
  
Fingertips brushed over the hollow of her collarbone, following with his lips once she'd tipped her head back at his touch.  Though his heart still raced, desire beating a pulse through him like lifeblood, he forced himself to be slower with his attentions.  Hestia was to be savored, not devoured - hopefully there would be time enough to explore both options in the future.  A whimper escaped her as he nosed the valley between her breast, tongue licking the damp skin of her breasts.  Igmund slowly traced a route between her peaks, before skimming his lips over a nipple, watching it harden at the contact.  Flicking his tongue over it, her sigh spurred him further and he finally took it in, suckling the bud gently.  
  
The water was rocky, filled with crags and boulders that Igmund normally cursed.  However, they proved to be an advantage when he pressed her against one, lifting her just enough out of the water to find her sex.  Despite the constant current around them, she was still slick with her own want, admitting his fingers without any resistance.  
  
His fingers dipped in and out of her a few times, then found her pearl and circled it a few times.  It was already swollen, wanting his touch to bring release.  Hestia leaned in for another kiss and was met by his fingers, and she licked the taste of herself from his digits.  When they kissed, he could only catch faint remnants on her lips, a hint of milky tang in her kiss.  
  
Returning his attentions between her legs, his thumb found her ready, heated and throbbing as he swirled his fingers, earning sweet gasps and moans.  She was still perched on the rock, one hand holding onto the side of it, the other pulling him closer, deeper into their kiss.  Threading her hand through his damp hair, Hestia nipped at his jaw, her teeth grazing through his beard.  She delivered biting, hard kisses to his neck, to the soft spot beneath his ear, eroding his carefully crafted control, making him redouble his efforts to pleasure her.  
  
All at once, she crashed, a release marked by a silent scream.  Head thrown back and eyes shut, she shuddered, pulsing and gripping his shoulder.  When she found her voice, she groaned, low and throaty, the sound stirring the most primal reaches of his manhood.  Her heady moans unleashed his need, and he slid into her fully, sheathing himself without preamble, the two of them groaning in unison as he did.  
  
Hestia leaned back on the rock, giving him more space to maneuver, the added bonus of letting him see more of her body.  Water droplets sprayed onto her exposed torso as she shifted position, decorating her body and catching the light, shining like diamonds across her breasts.  She let her head drop along the curve of the boulder, the ends of her hair touching the water as it flowed around them.  Her walls clenched around him, adding further constraint to the tightness and he felt dizzy, almost weak with the need for release.  Without much finesse, he rammed into her, enticed by the sight of her spread and eager before him.    
  
Her hands slipped on the wet rock, but she held fast to its sides, hoisting her hips up to meet Igmund's rough thrusts.  There was none of his former delicacy now, just raw need, an aching need to be sated.  With her head back, her whispers of his name projected before being lost in the crash of the waterfall, and it was almost as if the water was calling out to him, begging him for more, to be harder and faster.  Igmund obliged as best he could, knowing it wouldn't be too much longer for him, his efforts earning him a near constant chorus of pleading moans.  
  
Water covered her and dried in spots, leaving her skin cool despite the heat running through her veins.  Taut bronze nipples pointed towards the ceiling shook with his every thrust, arousing him further with this sight of them, begging to be captured in his mouth once more.  Beneath him, Hestia shifted, working her hips closer to him on the slick rock, and he groaned.  It was too much, her body contorting, the shifting of the angle of her hips, and Igmund shattered with a savage roar, the sound carrying above the splash of the water around them.  
  
He carried her to his bed, as if she were made of glass, her wet hair dripping a trail as brought her through the room.  In bed, they lay together in silence for a while, fatigue catching up to Hestia.  Igmund was gentle as his hands slipped over her, and leaving a trail of soft kisses over her pruned skin.  His mouth found its way down her body and up again, rousing her out of her tiredness.  When his tongue parted her folds, she was ready, his kisses had reawakened her.    
  
She came with a shuddering sigh, so different from in the water, and somehow more intimate to his ears.  Afterwards, she slipped effortlessly into a comfortable sleep, resting in Igmund's arms.    
  
He let her sleep in the morning, getting up as he usually did, though this time he was sore and moved a little slower thanks to their exertions against the rocks. If any one in his court noticed the stiffness in his gait, they were tactful enough not to say anything. When Hestia awakened, he assumed she would come and see him before she left to return home, but as the morning wore on without sight of her, he grew worried that she'd slipped out without him seeing. With a wry smile, he admitted to himself that it wouldn't be the first time.  
  
But when Igmund went back to his chambers to eat luncheon, she was still there, still sleeping in his bed. The sight of her made him both glad and upset - upset that she was so exhausted by the events yesterday and glad that she'd not run out on him. Forgoing his meal, he went straight to her, checking on her sleeping form.   
  
"Igmund." Hestia said sleepily. "Divines, is it morning already?"  
  
"Afternoon." Igmund replied, and she groaned.   
  
"I'm sorry, I know you have work to do. I can go back to my house." Hestia mumbled sleepily, attempting to get up, but Igmund gently pressed her back into the mattress.  
  
"Stay, unless you need to go home for something."  
  
She shook her head, smiling at him. Suddenly he was aware, very aware that she was in his bed, still nude, all sleep-warm and tousled, giving him a very appreciative look.  
  
It wasn't how he'd intended to spend his mealtime, but he could eat any time. Returning her caress, the knuckle of one finger stroking her chin and neck before lowering his face to hers in a kiss. It caught him off guard, the sweetness of it, and Igmund let himself be pulled down to her, letting her dictate the terms.  
  
Though it was quicker than it had been the night before, it was also more emotional. He looked her in her eyes as they coupled, and he stayed wrapped up in her arms afterwards, contemplating having Raerek clear his schedule for the rest of the day. Hestia's fingers threaded lightly through the hair on his chest, as Igmund felt the fatigue he'd barely been able to keep at bay throughout the day.  
  
"Are you wearing this for a reason?" Hestia's fingers caught the Amulet of Mara he had around his neck.  
  
"Did you just notice?"  
  
 "No, but it wasn't appropriate to point it out earlier. We were, busy." She said, and he laughed softly, conceding the point.  
  
"I do have a reason, the same as anyone wearing an Amulet of Mara." Igmund answered.  
  
Hestia eyed him for a moment, trying to discern something. He started back, unwavering, holding his breath unconsciously. "Well, my jarl, are you interested in marrying me?"  
  
"I am."  
  
She smiled at him, her eyes lighting up first, as if lit with a glow from within, the rest of her face adorned seconds later with a wide grin. "And I you." Hestia confirmed in a whisper, making triumph soar though him. Igmund bent his head to kiss her again, relishing the knowledge that she - his ally, friend and Thane would be his forever, by his side. With deft fingers, she unclasped the amulet around his neck, letting it fall to the bed between them, forgotten as they sealed their engagement with a kiss.


End file.
